


Compromise

by peonydee



Series: fried donuts and steamed buns [3]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), F/M, Ficlet, Sad Ending, pre-reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 11:00:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6003306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peonydee/pseuds/peonydee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>how do you end something you're not sure really even started?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Compromise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mikochan_noda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikochan_noda/gifts).



The norm was for Ladybug to take the initiative. It was part of their M.O., their respective sovereignty. She lead. He followed. Tonight, Chat Noir called the meeting. They met at a garden roof top of some avant-garde art museum, one that would hide them from curious eyes. Within it was a folded up corner that was a cafe during proper museum hours. Its chairs were piled atop its tables, tucked under the awning of the closed bar, just in case it rained overnight. They sat together for several minutes of silence, before they managed to speak.

"I've been compromised," he said.

"I've been compromised, too," she said.

Five years ago, Chat Noir might have entertained fantasies that his lady meant she finally found it in her heart to return his affections. Tonight, he wasn't completely surprised, just regretful, really, that both of them are faced with the same terrible decision he had come to consult with her. It made things easier, he conceded, that she, too, had to grapple with the same dilemma and therefore had done as much if not more thinking about the issue.

"I was blindsided," he said. "I've known her for years."

"I thought I was over him," she said. "And I was: I just never expected to fall for the same person."

Over the years, after several akuma incidents far too close to home for both of them, they had mutually decided to control their risks. Don't get too close to new people. Don't get too attached. Hawkmoth over the years had become more systematic in his attacks, akumatizing in cohorts, it seemed. The reasoning was simple really; one tragedy was difficult enough, but several tragedies among a close-knit of people could seem like the end of the world to a weak link.

Why me? Why mine?

The concerted attacks became spaced apart, marked by a few weeks of eerie silence. Then a first detonation came from nowhere, followed by several over the span of days, hours even.

And so Ladybug and Chat Noir had decided between them, that they would refrain from entering romantic relationships in their civilian lives.

"We have any choice in the matter," Ladybug said, reliably taking the initiative to bring the obvious solution to the table.

"I know," Chat Noir said.

"Before things get too serious, we should..."

"I _know_."

"I hope it’s not too late."

"I've imagined it all believe me: white wedding, kids, which district has the best schools--does that count as too late?"

"You cheese ball."

"Tell me you haven't named your imaginary children with this obviously amazing guy?"

"How do you know this guy of mine is amazing, anyway?"

"Please. He managed to get under your skin when I couldn't."

"And your amazing girl?"

"Exactly. There are no words capable of expressing how perfect she is for me. I finally accept that my unrequited love for you can be as precious in other forms and I get this."

"Sorry, kitten. I wish it didn't have to be this way."

"You and me both, my lady. You and me both."

"Maybe someday, we can both try again?"

"You mean to hope that they might actually wait for us to get done with this hero business?"

“I’m still in an optimistic mood.”

Despite themselves they sat in companionable silence. Not quite touching, but quite near, somehow comforted by the idea that they weren't alone, that their sacrifice was appreciated by at least one other person.

They would each remember for the other’s sake. They would each give what was necessary.

They would each find the strength to stay grounded, with all the weight of their partnership, their duty, and their not-so-abstract brand of “greater good.”

 

* * *

 

  
  
The next day she went to her boss's office, spotted a free fifteen minute space in the multi-colored spread of the working and personal calendar he had shared with her, ostensibly for her to schedule night outs or lunches with their mutual friends. She was not surprised that his secretary let her through with just a quick exchange of greeting. She was taken aback by how tensely he held himself behind his imposing desk, as if he knew what she was about to request of him.

"This isn't working," she said without preamble. "Work is... too much of a hindrance after all."

She expected his face to fall, his green eyes to narrow in disbelief, to deepen to near hazel in the heat of the emotions clashing in his chest. Not so, he only nodded grimly, and said with equal economy of words, "I understand. It's unethical of me to take advantage of you this way."

This statement she couldn’t allow, vigorously shaking her head in protest.

“I’m still breaking up with you. It’s the right thing to do.”

“I’m breaking up with you, too, for the exact same reason.”

His laugh sputtered, half snort and half whine. “I guess that answers the question.”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve been wondering if we could be considered as lovers now.”

“Oh.” There was a sigh tucked in somewhere within that tiny word. “Technically…”

“Not anymore.” He sounded bitter even with the reassuring smile he offered her.

"But maybe someday. Once again." She so sounded placating even to her ears, so politely handing over a canned platitude: how exactly do you even forgive a person who threw away the promise of a workable relationship for a career move? Why would he wait, when she had seen how ready he had been to throw everything to the wind just so they might try to bridge their futures?

And now he'd never know that she had been ready, too. He had no idea how much she had already risked, to let him back in this close to her, after all those years she had been a fool for him.

Lives were at stake, however. His life. His safety. She had no choice, but to let him go before he becomes her undoing.

"Don't be a stranger," he finally said when it was clear there was nothing else left to say.

He offered a shaking hand to her across the plastic gleam of his newly emptied desk. She took it in one of hers and bowed over it, brushed her lips across his knuckles to deliver a last kiss on a safe place.

"Don't worry,” she promised. “You can't hide from me."

He nodded, knowing it for the lie that it was, and handed her the division transfer form he had signed just an eternity, just a few minutes ago.

“Goodbye, Marinette,” he said.

“Goodbye, Adrien,” she said.

02/01/2016


End file.
